


The Old Jumper

by Ononymous



Series: Christmas 2017 Stories and Requests [15]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 21:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13303725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: As Toriel and Asgore cautiously continue their relationship, Toriel discovers it's not quite like how it used to be.l





	The Old Jumper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doogly_Writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doogly_Writes/gifts).



> Original Request: Some Torigorey stuff

"The coast is clear!"

"Phew!"

Asgore got to his full height, taking a moment to stretch and run his now strained feeling neck. Bus stops probably weren't the best hiding place for someone as tall as him, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Catty, of all monsters," he muttered, "it might as well have been the children themselves for how fast they'd have found out."

"Well, perhaps it was worth it for the look on that human's face seeing you hunched up like you were playing hide and seek," giggled Toriel.

"I thought the reason we agreed to see a show in the next town over was to avoid standing out."

"No, that is impossible for us, Asgore. It was to avoid being seen by anybody who knows us. By the time that human talks to another monster about that scene, perhaps secrecy shall no longer matter."

The slightly indignant expression on his face softened. Toriel knew what he was thinking of saying, but also knew he'd think better of it, and she appreciated it. The pressures of keeping these days secret were nothing to the pressure she would feel from multiple directions to make a firm commitment. It was a childish impulse, but even at her most relaxed she still had trouble embracing the present. The past still leapt to mind even when she didn't want it to. Asgore understood that better than anyone, and was happy to let her take the wheel about where this was all headed.

"So, what were you saying about the ending?"

"I did like the final song. Very sad of course, both brothers dying, but It raised some interesting questions about whether we are destined to do what we do or whether it is our own choices."

"I am surprised you would pick up on such a theme, Asgore."

"Well, you know, I may have given it some thought in the past..."

"Oh! Sorry, I-"

"No no, Tori, it's alright." He certainly looked like he took the reminder in stride, instead pleasantly glancing up at the clouds. Then he fished in his coat for a box of candy he'd bought at the confectionery stand. Oh, he's probably going to try that trick. Here we go, candy piece in his hand, head tilted back, open wide, and...

The candy piece flew into the air and landed right on target in his mouth. He suckled on it a little before swallowing it. Appreciating the taste, it was a moment before he realised Toriel had stopped walking.

"Is something wrong?"

"...that trick. Trying to throw the food in your mouth. You never managed it before. Everytime you tried to impress one of the children it ended up on the floor or stuck to your shoulder."

"Hmm? Oh, you're right." He chuckled at the memories. "Well, I suppose I just perfected it. Time to practice and all that."

"Oh, of course..."

Toriel gave this a little thought, but it didn't bother her too much. After a circuitous route to the train station to guarantee they avoided Catty or any other stray monsters, they were now consulting a timetable for the route back home.

"Let me see, the next train departing is an express, it doesn't stop where we'd like it to. The one after that is sold out save for first class tickets-"

"Oh, that sounds nice. But no, they are too expensive."

"If that's your choice. Oh dear, that means we'll be here for an hour or so. Great gallops, that will be a while." Toriel burst out laughing. "What's so funny?"

"'Great gallops'? You never said that before."

"Oh. Well a couple of decades ago someone recovered a book about a cowboy from Waterfall. The hero liked to exclaim 'Great gallops, they're robbing the bank!' or something like that. It must have robbed off on me. Er, I mean rubbed."

She sniffed with amusement. That would be the sort of thing he'd end up doing. All the same, as they sat in the too-low chairs drinking the too-cold tea the barista had served them - after heating it up with magic - there was a niggling doubt. 

Four tickets later - Toriel might have squeezed into a single seat, but Asgore certainly couldn't, and he'd never have asked her to - they were watching the countryside zoom by. The speed was amazing. By Toriel's estimation they must have traversed the entire length of the Underground in mere minutes. The novelty of being able to travel in a straight line for what felt like forever without being halted was still potent.

"So, how was your latest diplomatic summit? I did not get a chance to discuss it with Frisk."

"Oh, it was more of a photo op than any real significant issues getting discussed. Some humans are more worried about looking like they're getting things done than actually getting things done."

"You mean like how Asriel used to clean his room in the most roundabout manner possible, to make it look like he was working really hard?"

"Yes, exactly. But bedrooms are one thing, ensuring other countries abide by the Treaty of Ebott and that monsters get dealt the same hand wherever they go is quite another. I don't think we could ask Frisk to help us negotiate another two hundred versions of it."

"Something tells me they would not mind, but you are right, they've done more than enough. Perhaps at the next one you can..."

Toriel faltered. Asgore was clearly deep in thought about such negotiations, and had started curling a strand of his hair around one finger.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm? Oh. Well I'm not sure. Well, there was a really sick flower one time, and my hair kept getting in the way as I applied my cream to it. I might have started doing this ever since then. Does it bother you?"

Yes, she didn't say. "Not really."

He was still in thought, but diplomacy clearly wasn't on his mind. After a while however he returned to looking at the clouds. Now that was a new habit she understood, most monsters seemed to look up by default these days. Her eye was drawn to a different point, the horizon. Seeing the ground meet the sky felt like the real symbol of what had happened to them all. It helped keep her doubts at bay. Not that she didn't find another way to express them.

"Erm, Toriel dear?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you tapping your horn like that?"

So she was. She hadn't registered doing it. "Oh, when I lived in the Ruins, there was a young moldsmal who hurt herself, and I took her to my house to patch her up, but she was agitated and accidentally slimed my horn. And I suppose the slime didn't agree with me, for it itched like it was just budding again, and it felt like it kept itching long after I'd cleaned up, especially when I was thinking about things. Tapping was how I checked there was no slime. I must have picked it up as a habit."

"Oh. That's nice."

His complete unconcern was hilarious to her, and she burst out laughing. A nearby human looked around, but she paid him no mind.

"T-Tori?"

"Hee hee hee! That is so like you to not be concerned while I..."

The laughter faded away. Asgore was no longer completely unconcerned.

"Something is bothering you."

She took a deep breath. "...yes. I do enjoy these outings we have and a lot of the time it feels like the old days. But then you curl your hair or you perform the trick or you say Great Gallop, little habits you never had before. It feels strange. Like an old jumper that does not quite fit as you remember. It is a reminder of all that has happened since then. And yet I am just as guilty of developing these quirks. These differences do not unnerve you?"

He tapped his own horn, which was a habit he had from the old days To Toriel's surprise it put her at ease.

"...no," he said, "the differences don't change that you're still my little Floppybuns."

Affront hit her in the face. There was only one rational response to such a presumptive resuming of her pet name. She giggled.

"And you're my big Fluffybuns, Gorey."

He looked rather pleased with himself. "It's not like we haven't changed our habits in each other's presence as well. Do you remember that stutter I had during the monthly announcements?"

"Oh, how can I forget? 'H-howdy everyone, Gerson w-would like me to say there's b-been a c-cave-in in the secondary p-p-path from Waterf-f-fall to Hotland.'"

"Precisely," he smiled, "and if you want to hold the fact I don't do that anymore against me, then we might as well pack it in right now."

It wasn't the first time he'd made that particular ironic suggestion. She'd better put his mind at ease. "You are not getting rid of me that easily, Dreemurr."

He continued to smile. "Together then. Maybe not forever, but for now we won't split up. Right, our stop is coming, so let's split up. You leave the station first and head straight home, I'll wait fifteen minutes and then go and break up an argument at Grillby's before going to my house."

She leaned forward in her seats and nuzzled his nose lightly. "Agreed. Same time next week?"

**Author's Note:**

> Pastebin Version: https://pastebin.com/pZWzUGzR
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


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